


Chasing The Clouds

by bryonyashley



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Fluff, Gaby is awesome, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 08:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10509813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bryonyashley/pseuds/bryonyashley
Summary: Three is not a good number for someone who works better alone. Especially when you feel like the third wheel. But things aren't always what they seem.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to the awesome [RileyC](http://archiveofourown.org/users/RileyC) for patiently beta reading and ♥♥ to anyone who reads my fics.

**Chasing the clouds**

Day 1

Napoleon takes another sip of scotch while crossing the room to reach the window. Looking out at the beach just in front of the hotel, he thinks of their first hours in Mallorca. Gaby, sunglasses too big, smiling, happy and looking beautiful in that green bikini and Illya, pale skin and azure eyes looking around almost wary of all that sun and heat and the little kids playing with sand. For a few hours it had really seemed they were on a vacation, relaxing under the straw beach umbrellas, listening to Spanish songs on the radio with Gaby dancing around.

Napoleon has started to tease Illya about his skin getting red as the Russian flag and _you are so tall compared to the locals, you are like a lighthouse to them_. Illya was shaking his head, smiling wide, and Napoleon had to glance away, feeling butterflies in his stomach just because he’d made him smile like that. _Idiot_ , he sighs at himself.

He’s fallen so hard for the Russian and it was taking everything in him to not ruin this Team U.N.C.L.E. thing, to avoid doing something stupid like reach out and kiss the scar on the side of Illya’s face, or ask _“Did you get at least third base with Gaby, Peril?”_ just to see how Illya would react and _do I really want to know? maybe I am a masochist_ and _fuck, for how long am I supposed to deal with this._ It’s been going on for three months now.

“I’m going for a walk, Peril. I’ll be back for dinner,” he says, nervously placing his glass on the table and leaving a puzzled Illya at his chess play.

 

Day 2

Illya and Gaby were playing being an engaged couple as usual, renting a car to explore the island, inspecting a travel agency office located in Palma’s periphery. That place was actually a rendezvous place, mercenaries from all the world coming and going, and they knew that in a bunker under that cottage there were weapons and other materials worth thousands and thousands of dollars and just as many human lives. Their mission, though, was only to obtain a specific microfilm, replace it and leave all the rest intact, as other people were involved to investigate the roots of the international traffic of arms.

While they were away, Napoleon had spent a couple of hours on the beach. He’d got back to his room and gone to take a bath. He'd just got out the Jacuzzi, grabbing the towel to dry off his hair first when Illya opened the door realizing only then that Napoleon was inside, a shameless display of his naked body right before Illya’s eyes. Much to Solo’s surprise Illya’s gaze didn’t shy away. “You’re tanning nicely, Cowboy,” he’d said, swallowing nervously, turning around and leaving Napoleon totally speechless and slightly aroused and _god, maybe I have a chance after all_.

Later, he and Illya were dressing for dinner, a heavy atmosphere between them. “You know, it’s started to feel as if we are an old married couple. Grumpy stares and nothing to say to each other, eh? Maybe we should find a way to revive our relationship,” Napoleon had said with a grin, winking at him. The way Peril had looked back at him was priceless.

At dinner Illya spent much of his time making moony eyes at Gaby, pretending to decide for her what to eat, annoying her for no reason, and Napoleon was feeling every bit of his third wheel status.

 

Day 3 

Illya squints his eyes and puts away the book he was reading, hand rubbing his face. Napoleon was planning their move for the mission and Illya knows better than to disturb him. He lies on the couch, head on the arm of it. Scenes of the previous night keep replaying in his mind. Gaby pushing him inside her room while they all were getting back from dinner, saying “Goodnight, Solo!” her voice loud as if making a point. He remembers Napoleon stopping in his tracks, eyeing her with a nonchalant silence and then his eyes piercing through Illya, as if questioning him, making his chest ache and _why?_ and _I don’t know what to do_. Napoleon had simply nodded, heading for the suite he and Illya were sharing this time around.

“When will you guys stop this game? It’s like … chasing the clouds! “ Gaby had exclaimed all at once, after closing the door and looking at Illya with an infuriated expression on his face.

“Game? What are you talking about?” he had asked, genuinely confused.

“I am talking about you and Solo. I am talking about the fact you keep playing my fiancé when it’s absolutely unnecessary and Napoleon doesn’t understand. I don’t understand. I’m tired of being caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. ”

“No…what? I guess it’s just a role I play brilliantly !” Illya had answered, a hint of flirtation in his smile. “What has that to do with Cowboy?”

“Illya!“ Gaby had snapped back. “Stop this. Come on, I’m not that stupid. I see you are in love with Napoleon! I know it must be difficult especially with “Mr. wear a mask and just do your job” but he really cares about you and you can tell he’s become jealous of us which is definitely an unusual thing.“

“This conversation is stupid, I don't talk such nonsense. “ He was getting angry, how was he supposed to talk about this kind of stuff, with Gaby of all the people? And to say what.. that this hurt, this want, this thing he was feeling when he was around Napoleon was eating him inside? _Is this love?_

“Goodnight, Gaby.” He tried to reach the door but Gaby had gone into his arms, blocking him in a hug. “Illya, please, listen to me, you and Napoleon need to talk, to clear things up. With the kind of life we have...what if something happens to him? Think about it… Regrets are forever,” she’d said, a knowing tone on her voice.

Realization hit Illya and he embraced her. “Has this happened to you?” he asked softly. Gaby had just nodded, resting her head on his chest. She was so tiny and so strong at the same time and Illya couldn’t help to feel an overwhelming tenderness for her but it wasn’t love, and he should stop pretending otherwise.

“What does ‘between the devil and the deep blue sea’ mean?” he had asked then, with a silly smile, playing dumb, _feeling dumb_ , hoping to duck the subject. Gaby had punched him in the arm, shaking her head, laughing with him.

The phone rings, bringing Illya back to the present. He looks at Napoleon, sitting at the desk in front of him, totally focused on the map, writing something here and there and for a crazy moment he wonders _what if I go and turn him around towards me, lean down and kiss that stupid gorgeous mouth_.

Instead, he answers the phone with a resigned sigh. The van is ready and waiting for them with all the necessary stuff for the mission.

 

Day 4

The local newspaper headline of the day was all about an explosion that occurred to a travel agency office in the hinterlands. Probably a gas leakage from a tank, that was the common belief among the police officers.

Napoleon was away, in a meeting with Waverly and the enforcement agents to talk about the mission. They had got the microfilm but the unexpected explosion occurred when they were leaving had destroyed almost everything and left Gaby hurt. Illya has been at the hospital for 2 hours. Gaby was still in intensive care because of her head injury and he’d been basically thrown out from the hospital. He’s got back to the hotel but he was feeling troubled so he decided to take a walk to clear his mind.

He cut across the beach huts half hidden by the bushes and low trees of the promenade intending to reach the seaside but then he sees Napoleon. He is kissing a girl, her arms wrapped around his neck, Solo’s hands around her hips pressing their bodies together against one of the huts. His vision blurs for a moment and rage takes over.

“What the hell are you doing ? “ Illya shouts out, grabbing Napoleon by his shoulders and shoving him away from the girl, pushing him against the wall’s hut and before he can think his fist lashes out and strikes Solo in the face. The girl, who he then recognizes as one of the desk receptionists, runs away scared. Illya, hands shaking and breathing heavy, tries to regain control of himself, eyes hard on Napoleon. “You can’t keep it in your pants for one fucking day? ” he was fuming. “I don’t know why I thought you could actually care for someone else besides yourself!”

Napoleon was pushing himself up, touching his cheekbone, a droplet of blood dripping down from his nose, staining his shirt “I could, if there were actually someone giving a damn about me,” he snaps back staring into Illya’s eyes. Illya frowns, looking away.

“Look, I’m really sorry for what has happened to Gaby….” starts Napoleon, his expression unreadable, taking his handkerchief and pressing it to his nose. “I ..I should have checked better before we got too close to that damn bunker.”

“Nonsense. I was there too! Who could have imagined they had put such a rudimentary trap protection in there. And Gaby should have been far away. That I don’t understand!” exclaims Illya, feeling the anger dissolve.

“Gaby will be fine _she has to be_. She is strong, you know that."

They were interrupted by a couple of local passerby, looking a bit alarmed by the scene presented to them.

“We better go back to the hotel,” says Napoleon, and he is putting the handkerchief away when Illya closes the space between them “Wait…” he says, reaching for Napoleon’s hand, taking the handkerchief “there’s something left,” he says getting closer to Napoleon, backing him against the hut, putting a forearm beside his face, pretending to wipe off a droplet of blood with the other hand and Napoleon realizes he going to be kissed, right then, right there.

“No more girls for you, Cowboy. I’m _your_ fiancé now. ” He warns before capturing his lips, licking into Napoleon’s mouth.

 

Day 5 

They have received Waverly’s phone call just after getting back to the hotel the previous evening. Gaby has woken up, no subdural hematomas, just a broken shoulder and some minor burns and “oh she says she is expecting you two tomorrow morning, with a lot of flowers and Spanish goodies,” Waverly alerted them in his impeccable British accent .

Illya was taking a bath and Napoleon was picking up the bedcovers and sheets from the floor with a gloating smile on his face. They have joined the two single beds together and spent most of the night lazily kissing and learning each other's bodies and pretending to argue about sex, Napoleon always provoking Illya.

Napoleon has also learned that Peril has a thing for biting and he is pretty sure Gaby will notice the signs on him as soon she will be able to leave the hospital. _I will make sure they are visible enough_.

“Hey Cowboy..” exclaims Illya appearing on the bathroom's door, naked and looking like a marble statue of Hermes Napoleon had seen once at the Vatican Museums “ Is the ‘do not disturb sign’ still up on the door? ” throwing him a flirty suggestive smile “To use the Jacuzzi all alone it’s such a waste.”

 _Insatiable,_ here is another thing he’s learned about Peril.

 


End file.
